


You Don't Want to Know

by mairel0n (orphan_account)



Category: Eureka, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-25 02:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/947402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/mairel0n
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With ten days to the full moon, Scott and the Guardians are nowhere to be found. Stiles needs all the help he can get. Luckily, he has two genius cousins on his side, who are used to the extraordinary, and one Kindergartner who knows more than she should.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alpha

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!  
> This is my first fic outside of the the angst-ridden preteen HP ones I made on FF.net. I hope this is better!  
> I first came up with this idea a few months ago when I first notices that Linden Ashby looked a bit like Colin Ferguson. So I took that and _ran_.
> 
> The Blake-Carter-Starks will be making a proper appearance in the next chapter, if things play out as I want them to. There are going to be some timeline changes on both sides, but hopefully things will work out. 
> 
> If you found any mistakes, please let me know. If you have any ideas, please let me know!

# You Don't Want to Know.

##  A Eureka/Teen Wolf Crossover. 

### Alpha

Stiles had never been one to give up. Persistence and patience, he believed, was the secret to success. If one could be patient enough and work hard enough, one could eventually become overlord of the Earth.  
Though that wasn't exactly his plan. Not yet, anyway. 

He slid his slim fingers up and down the rainbow ribbon on his keys in an idle gesture. Though “rainbow” was probably being generous. It had certainty been rainbow at one point in it's life. Bright and still a bit stiff and bent from the packaging. These days, though, “beige-with-streaky-yellow-bits” might be more appropriate. Years of fiddling with it had dampened its looks, but not its soothing effect. He put it down to magic and voodoo, but his middle school guidance councillor told him he had formed a secure attachment to it after his mother had died. It gave him comfort and reminded him of happier times. 

This could be true, he had reasoned. He had first seen this particular ribbon on a chilly afternoon at the park. The sky was the grey of overused Blu-tack with overly gloomy clouds monopolising the view. It must have been the park by the bank- the one the council had knocked down- because he can't remember having seen it again. Children chortled and carried on in the merry way that children do, while Stiles sat placidly beside the swings, watching. Scott was in the mud, fishing for bugs. A lost shoe was making its way down a slide. The usual.  
Something was new, though. The ribbon had been entwined in the hair of a young girl, in stark contrast to her pale, wispy hair. Shimmering in the sun as she navigated her way over the Jungle Gym, Stiles became mesmerised. It was beautiful. It was everything he had ever wanted. He had to have it. He was _going_ to have it.  
Pushing himself onto his podgy little legs, he made his way over to where she now sat in the sand. It was a long and perilous journey, with many obstacles that proved hazardous to those who are not yet in complete control of their limbs. True, he had fallen onto his plump, diapered backside a number of times, and his light blue pants were now a distasteful grey, but to have that ribbon in his hot little hand would be worth it all.  
He was right behind her now, wobbling slightly on his feet. The girl was slurping happily on an apple juice box and spreading the sand with her feet, like some strange snow angel. She would never see him coming. As if in slow motion, he uncurled his little fist and reached towards his target. 

He was so close now, but something made his stop. She was older than him. Taller, too. She could probably push him over. Was it worth being pushed over? That might hurt. It was okay to fall over when he was walking, but he didn't like the thought of being _pushed_. That sounded decidedly more unpleasant. Maybe he shouldn't. He was brave, but he wasn't stupid. It could wait. 

He cast one last, longing look at the ribbon. Stripes of every colour he could name (and some he had yet to learn) shimmered back at him. Seemingly without his consent, his hand shot out and grabbed for the ribbon. Naturally, a fistful of hair came with it. 

The poor girl screamed bloody murder as parents rushed in from all directions. Her scream was shrill, not like she was in pain. More like she was startled, annoyed even. But Stiles was too stunned to hear her. He had it. Tufts of hair poked out from around his chubby knuckles, but deep in his palm sat the ribbon. 

“Stiles? Come on sweetie.” He looked up from his tightly scrunched fist to the warm brown eyes of a woman. She was kneeling beside him, laying one hand gently on his fist. “Let go of your cousin's hair. There's a good boy.” Gazing up to his mother, Stiles felt her slowly prizing apart his fingers until the screaming stopped. She took his now free hand with her own and turned him to face her. “Stiles, can you say sorry to your cousin? It isn't very nice to pull her hair.” 

Stiles blinked twice. He knew there was no way to communicate why he had done it. Though he did his best, the adults and others couldn't understand what he was saying. So he settled for nodding solemnly and gurgling in the girl's general direction.

His mother smiled, and turned to the girl. “Zoe? Do you have anything to say to Stiles?”  
Face like thunder, Zoe put her hands on her hips. “You're so _weird_! Don't ever touch me again, Stiles.” with a stamp of her blue Mary-Jane's she stormed from the play ground and out of sight. 

Eight years later, Stiles had sat quietly in his room. Not saying anything and not feeling much either. He was numb, to tell the truth. The shock was gone. The sadness still lingered, but it was losing it's weight on him. He didn't feel anything at all. With one foot, he pushed against the ground and his chair spun to face the desk.  
A mountainous pile of grey and white envelopes towered over him. He knew he had to face them eventually.  
 _I have to be brave. ___  
Sighing, he reached for the top envelope.  
 _Our deepest sympathy, Have our condolences._  
Letter after letter expressed grief and sympathy. They began to wash over him, the words becoming more meaningless as he got closer to the base of the mountain. None of it would do him any good. Nothing could bring her back. 

__After what seemed like a lifetime of letters, Stiles was left with only three. Two of them were white and the third, purple. The third one had lumps and bumps. Glitter spilled out from the seams and stuck to everything in it's vicinity. Cautiously, Stiles picked up the envelope and broke the seal. Glitter rushed from the envelope like some sort of sparkling waterfall, completely covering him. He looked defeatedly down upon his now twinkling form, not exactly caring, but not happy about it, either. Heaving one more sigh for good measure, Stiles shook the excess glitter from the card before reading it._ _

__There were no white lilies, crosses or silhouetted trees in sight. Nor were there any melancholy beach scenes. Just the word “Sorry” in cursive glitter. It creaked in protest as he prised the pieces apart. Whoever had sent it was a big fan of glitter-glue._ _

___There was no other writing inside the card, but there was something else. He didn't recognise it at first. It was just a worn scrap of material. Not particularly interesting or bright and maybe half an inch wide. It was held to the card with a scrap of tape that fell away with the slightest of tugs. He flipped it over, looking for any explanation. What the hell was it? Who would send him something so stupid? Frustration gripped him, and he scrunched the fabric in his hand. It was all so pointless. So ridiculous._  
He launched the scrap across the room in frustration, only to have it flutter slowly to his feet.  
Tears now streaked his pale cheeks and his head fell into his hands. Was it always going to be this hard? Sobs began to wrack his body, chest heaving. Breaths came short and fast, no oxygen reaching his lungs. A weak spluttering escaped his lips and his hands gripped tightly the base of his chair.  
 _This is ridiculous. I'm going to suffocate myself._  
Deep breath. He sat up, arching his back. Long, deep breaths. He just, breathing, for what seemed like hours. Slowly, his grip eased on the chair and his muscles relaxed.  
Eventually, Stiles swiped away the tears on the wrist of his jacket and bent to retrieve the scrap off the floor. 

__Now calm, Stiles had to wonder why someone had sent him this. It was obviously meant for him, so what was it? He closed his fingers around it, and it all came back. The park. The sand. Screaming. Then his mother. Smiling, and speaking sweetly to him. He could see her so clearly. A small smile appeared on his face as he tucked the ribbon into his pocket. The first smile in quite a while, and the first of many._ _


	2. Bravo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoe takes a long time to get out of her car and a mysterious stranger comes bearing mints.

"Alright Zoe, just the next left and you will be there!" SARAH chirped. She was _way_ too happy for the ungodly hour that was upon us. I lifted my hands off the wheel as it spun itself.  
"Thanks SARAH. Hey, is there anywhere to get a coffee before going in?"  
"I'm sorry Zoe, but your father has forbidden me from providing you with caffeinated beverages. How about a smoothie?"  
"Forget it. Lets just get this over with."

The sun was peeking over the distant hills, leaving an orangey glow over the seemingly ever present mist that surrounded the town. Dark leaves caught the wind and squired past the windows. It would have been beautiful, if it wasn't so early.  
My Pathology class was starting in two hours and I would normally have been catching up on some much needed rest, yet here I was; Four hours away from my dorm with the only car in America to actively deprive her driver her much needed java fix.  
I suppose "driver" is a bit generous; after the latest patch, SARAH could practically navigate her way across the country. She did have a bit of trouble with highways, but that was probably a self-confidence thing. I'd barely concentrated Still, I needed to at least pretend I was the one in control. Even if I was aceing my classes, it's hard to believe an 18 year old could design such a complex system. Particularly a Med student. Which would, inevitably lead to a whole lot of questions I couldn't answer. Especially from dad. He's be pissed if he knew I totalled my car. Thank God Fargo was able to send her to me.  
"Here we are, Zoe! 176 Kennedy Drive, Beacon Hills. I think I'll park under the trees around the side. I don't want to get stolen or hurt. According to my research, cars in Beacon Hills are far more likely to be damaged than in any other town. Apparently there has been an increase in wildlife related damage. The closer to the house I can get, the better."  
"Ok, well, thank you SARAH. I'll be back a bit later."  
Unbuckling myself, I began to emerge from the car into the crisp morning air. Maybe this would wake me up. I had barely set my foot on the soft earth when she called me back.  
"Oh! Zoe! You have a call from Kevin Blake. Would you like me to answer it?"  
With a groan I flopped back into the driver's seat and clicked the “accepted” button. Don't get me wrong- I love my little brother, but chances are it wasn't just him on the other end.  
My suspicions were confirmed as he and Jenna appeared on my dash.  
"Hey Zo, thought I'd woken you up." They sat side-by-side in the back  
of Alison's car. The grey interior, completely devoid of emotion, dominated the small screen. As much as I liked Alison, she had no taste in cars.  
"Oh, well, SARAH very kindly set an alarm." Plastering a broad smile on my rapidly drying lips, I fondly patted the dash.  
"Oh, it was nothing, Zoe! I just wanted to get you here in time." She chimed in.  
"So, how far away are you?"  
Hopefully I could get the unpleasantness over before  
they arrived. It had been years- over a decade, probably- since I set foot in this house. It wasn't going to be easy, and I didn't need an audience.  
"Two hours and fifty three minutes. There will be a delay on the bridge that will keep us for an hour. Three hours and fifty... Two minutes." Jenna's eyes were glazed over and she spoke in a voice completely devoid of emotion.  
Kevin shot me an alarmed look before he slid an arm over her shoulders and gave her a small squeeze.  
"C'mon Jen. Come back." he whispered into her ear.  
Jenna gave an almost imperceivable shudder and smiled brightly through the camera.  
"Are there foxes in Beacon Hills, Zoe? Grace was reading me a book about foxes and I really, really want to see one."  
Jenna's blackouts were getting more and more frequent, and more and more strange. She used to just get that fairway look. It was like her mind was somewhere else, and nothing could pull her back. Then she began to talk. It started as an indecipherable mumble, but recently she had been... predicting things. Knowing things she shouldn't. It was scary as hell, but Kevin and I had it under  
control. We didn't want to worry Dad and Alison, not now, and Kevin had had his share of strange turns as a kid, so we kept it to ourselves.  
"I don't know. Sorry Jen. There might be mountain lions, though. Do you know what they are?" Her dark braids whipped around her face as she shook her head.  
"Do you want to watch a video on mountain lions?" Kevin reached into his bag and pulled out a tablet computer and some headphones. After some quick slides and well placed taps, Jenna had become engrossed in the screen. When she concentrated really hard, her brow would furrow and her lips moved, forming silent words. She really was smart for her age, but who in Eureka wasn't? The poor girl would never really know how smart she was.  
"We-we should say something about Jenna. She's getting worse."  
"I know, I know. But at least wait until all this is over. They already have enough to worry about. We've just-"  
"Zoe? Sorry to interrupt, but someone is approaching us rapidly from the north."

So this was going to happen sooner rather than later. A quick head check confirmed that there was indeed a figure making their way through the fog.  
"Thanks SARAH. Look, Kevin, I've gotta go. We'll talk about this when you arrive."  
I cut the feed and slumped against the seat. My heart was racing a mile a minute. This was insane. Jenna was fine. I would be fine. Really, what was the worst that could happen? A quick head shake and a deep breath helped regain some composure. Currently, the worst thing that could happen would be him finding me in a talking car. That would garner some questions I wasn't ready to answer.

The day was oddly windy for this time of year, but who is a Eurekan to complain about odd? My ex had turned green during a bowling match with the Area 51 team. A bit of wind was nothing. I turned to retrieve my jacket from the back seat, which was less than an inch away. As handy as SARAH was, she was never going to be a family car.  
"Zoe?" For a moment, I thought she had heard me. It wasn't unusual for mind reading to spontaneously manifest in AI. Well, I didn't think so anyway.  
But no, I wasn't about to get a finger wagging from my car. She was warning me about the face peering through her passenger's side window that just about gave  
me a heart attack.

At my start, he stepped back gave a crooked smile. I couldn't help but notice how _gorgeous_ he was. A quick assessment of his blonde curls and steel blue eyes confirmed that this was not Stiles. Good. I felt a smile spread over my cracked lips as I lowered the window. A blast of air rushed through and whipped my previously pristinely ironed hair into a frenzy.

"Sorry about that. Kinda windy out these days. You're new to town. I don't think we've met." He was still there and still smiling that half-crooked smile that showed off his perfect, if pointy, teeth. With his piercing eyes and oddly pale skin, he looked like a vampires from the books that everyone raves about. He stood with one arm resting against the roof of SARAH and bent to my level so I could see his face. And what a beautiful face it was. It was also a face that, apparently, wanted an reply.  
"Yeah. I mean no. No, I don't think we've met. I'm Zoe. Uh, Zoe Carter."  
"Nice to meet you, Zoe Carter. I'm Isaac." At this, he reached through the window and offered a gloved hand. The fingers on each glove had small holes in them. Like something has pierced through from inside. I accepted the warm hand and was rewarded with a firm quick shake.

"What brings you to Beacon Hills, Zoe Carter?"  
"Just Zoe. I'm visiting my cousin." I gave a wave in the general direction of the house.  
"Stiles?"  
I laughed. "He's still going by Stiles then? Not surprising, really. You know him?"  
Isaac gave a humourless chuckle and looked over at the house. "Yeah, you could say  
that. I guess you heard about his father then?"  
I gave a small nod. The town serif had been missing for three days. Dad had received a call from a distraught deputy two days ago and then there I was. We knew there was a serial killer in town, and the FBI. Stiles was a minor and dad was his next of kin. Plus, with access to GD tech, he could probably find him faster than the Feds. If there was something to find.

"Yeah. God, that sucks. Dad's gone missing before, but I always knew he would turn up in the end. But a serial killer..." The words hung heavily in the air.  
Isaac cleared his throat. "I'll walk you to the house. I need to talk to your cousin about something."  
Though the house was only twenty yards away, I didn't want to pass up the offer.  
"Oh. Right. Thanks. I'll just be a second."  
I flicked the switch and the window raised itself. Isaac stood with his back to the window. Beneath the heavy woollen coat and scarf, he defiantly had muscles. And not the lithe swimmers muscles you would normally see on guys like him. He was burly, but he hid it well.  
My lips were near bleeding and I swiped them with some strawberry balm. You're certainly awake now. Be careful, Zoe. I don't trust him."  
"Sit tight, SARAH. I'll see you soon." Throwing the last few things into my bag, I once again exited the car.

My hair and skirt whipped and snapped in the wind as we made our way to the house, causing havoc for my visual field. I cast a sidelong glance through the cluster of hair at Isaac. His perfect blonde curls hardly moved in the wind and his coat still sat perfectly. It wasn't surprising, really. He seemed to put-together. He caught my eye and gave me a smile. “Ready?”  
As we walked, he offered me a beaten tin filled with white pills. "Mint?"  
"No, Thank you, but no."  
"All right. So, where are you from? Those plates aren't from around here."  
I looked over my shoulder at SARAH "Oh, yeah. It's a... Friend's car. I totalled mine recently and he had a spare..."  
"He? That car's not exactly bursting with Testosterone."  
"Oh, you'd be surprised..."  
The rocket propulsion system and "Fun Defensive Measures" Fargo installed would probably beg to differ.

We had reached the porch and Isaac stopped and turned to face me. I could feel my pulse hammering somewhere on neck, though I wasn't sure if it was because of the hot guy gazing down at me or the fact I would have to go inside soon. I had a feeling that it was the former, but the latter worried me still. Stiles and I weren't the closes we could have been. If it wasn't for the photos Gran would send us when she was still alive, I'd have no idea what he looked like. What if he refused to let me in?  
A wave of nausea rolled over me, leaving my stomach feeling like it was somewhere a stomach really shouldn't have been. Like in my throat, for example. Dad had wanted me to call ahead; make sure it was ok for us to visit, but I had put it off. My breaths were shallow and fast. What oxygen made it into my lungs was suffocatingly thick. He had no idea I was coming and oh God it was getting hot. This was a bad idea. I need-

"Woah," Isaac reached over planted a firm hand on my shoulder, steadying me. "Are you okay?”  
"I'm fine." But I clearly wasn't. I was a mess, my breathing still erratic, the words barely came out as a whisper.  
"No, You're worried. We all are. The sheriff's a good man, and he should never have been involved in any of this. Why don't you sit on the porch and calm down. Breath, Zoe. I'll speak to Stiles and let him know you're here, ok?" Grasping my other shoulder, Isaac steered me to the porch and sat me on a weathered porch swing.  
"It was a pleasure meeting you, Zoe." He gave my shoulders a quick squeeze before turning towards the door.  
"You're a lot like him, you know. I can tell." With that he was into the house and out of sight.  
Which was probably a good thing. I didn't need him seeing me blushing on top of my hysterics. After a moment or several, I regained control and dumped my bag at my feet. I could still hear the blood thumping in my ears and I still felt a little hot, but that was better than nothing.  
I hadn't had an attack like that in years. Probably not since Mom said she was taking me away from Eureka. After that, Grace had prescribed me some medication which had worked wonders, but I'd run out recently and hadn't been back to Eureka. Guess I could have asked her to send some, but being the kid on meds isn't who I wanted to be.  
I raised my hand to my cheeks, feeling a soft warmth radiating off them. Still blushing, then.  
Isaac was really sweet. SARAH didn't trust him, but she'd once killed a pizza guy over nothing, so she wasn't the greatest judge of character.

At a slight loss as for what to do, I pushed off from the ground and began swinging backwards and forwards as I surveyed the porch. The faded blue wood was cracking in places and the potted plants were long dead. It was immediately obvious that there was no woman living here. I've lived with a lot of women (Aunt Lexie, Holly, Jo, Tess and Alison, to name a few) and they had all been totally different, but all of them had left some sort of feminine mark on our house. Jo would often leave her ballet flats outside the door, Tessa had bought a pot of flowers, and Holly insisted on there always being a sunflower in the lounge-room, _”To brighten up the place!”_ The only distinguishing feature of the Stilinski household exterior was the overly dirty welcome mat and a couple of dog's paw prints.  
Leaves from a large oak tree littered the ground. From their advanced stage of decay (and their slightly mulchy smell), I guessed they must have been from last fall. So engrossed in my assessment of his porch, I didn't notice Stiles until he said something.  
"What are you doing here?"

###### 

**AN:** Hi again! I have to say, I could hardly believe it when I saw that there were almost 200 views, so thank you for giving my rambling even a moment of your time!

As promised, the Blake-Carter-Starks are in town! Sort of. I decided to switch things up a little this time and set Zoe in first person. I want to improve on it, and there is no better way to improve than to practice. So yes, it is sloppy and drags on a bit, but I hope to get better.

Geographical liberties were taken, as I know Harvard is not 4 hours from Beacon Hills. More like 44 hours.

So thank you for over looking that.  
Please note: I am but a lowly Australian and really, all I know about American education is what I've seen on TV. So if I get things wrong, please correct me!


	3. Charlie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unexpected family reunion.

Though he should have been should have been shocked- maybe even a little mad- Stiles could feel nothing but numb resignation. Aside from the fleeting moments of inspiration and action, it was all he had felt since his father had been taken. Isaac had delivered the news only moments earlier before escaping out the back window and into the ever present fog, leaving him to deal with this alone.   
One of his last remaining non-kidnapped or dead family members, and here she was, just sitting on the porch swing as if she hadn't just walked into the ever more literal Hell Hole that was his home town. 

Zoe's eyes were puffy and her cheeks were pale, but they coloured as she rose to her feet in indignation. He was suddenly struck by how alike she looked to Heather and his breath hitched in his throat. His mind involuntarily leapt back to that night in the wine cellar. They had the same, wavy, golden hair and, apparently, the same death glare. 

“What do you _think_ I'm doing here?” she shot back as she made to cross her arms over her chest. She apparently thought better of it and planted her hands firmly on her hips. “You're dad's MIA,” she took in a deep breath “and I'm here to help in any way I can.”

Stiles gave a hollow laugh. “You? Sure. I could totally use your help to catch this dru- ah, douchebag. Let's just rally the pep squad and we'll get started.”   
“I was never a cheerleader, you asshole.”  
“My mistake, but that doesn't change the fact that you shouldn't be here. You need to go. Now.”

This did achieve what he had hoped. Instead of picking up her bad and driving off into the fog in that funny little car of hers, she seemed even more determined to stay. Carefully, Zoe stepped forward and raised her eyes to his (Which was not an easy task, considering he had a good foot and a half on her) and cocked her head to the side.   
“I'm going to help. You're going to let me.” With that, she scooped up her bag, swept past him, left the door to bang against the frame and left Stiles with his hands half raised in the air in agitation and his left eye twitching. After a beat, he followed behind her as she made her way to the kitchen.

Stiles was dimly aware of the dirty dishes strewn throughout the kitchen and the faint musty smell and wondered how Zoe would react. With the drapes shut tight and the only light coming from a bulb above their heads. He didn't really bother with lights any more. He only came home to sleep, and he wasn't doing much of that recently. Despite spending his days in the library or at Derek's, researching, Stiles was putting in extra hours at home. Every second counted.

“Oh, and Dad's on his way, too. He'll be here in three hours or something” she called over her shoulder.   
“What? Why? It's bad enough _you_ being here. I might have mentioned that **you should leave.** ” he replied through gritted teeth. God, she could be annoying.   
She reached the kitchen and began searching through the cupboards, looking for God knows what.  
“Duh, his big brother's been kidnapped by a serial killer. Like he's just going to hang around town while his brother gets... while his brother's gone.” She wrinkled her nose at a suspiciously green and fuzzy box and closed the cupboard door with a snap. “You probably don't know this, but he's kind of a big deal, as far as law enforcement goes.” She emerged victoriously from her search, practically beaming down at a jar of instant coffee.   
“Well it doesn't matter how big of a deal he is. He won't be able to do anything. We've had Feds all over the town for weeks and _sheriff_ was kidnapped.” He let his eyes raise to the roof, as if praying for strength. “Just go while you still can. You don't know what you're dealing with here and, trust me, you _cannot_ handle it. So take the coffee and go, alright?”

Zoe paused mid way through spooning the black granules into a mug. “What are we dealing with?” she tipped the spoon and the granules cascaded into the mug. They seemed to fall in slow motion. Stiles was mesmerised. He heard them topple as they each hit the ceramic base with an almost soundless thud. He could only imagine how a Scott would hear it. How does he cope with it all? “Earth to Stiles?” Zoe looked at him expectantly.  
He snapped back to reality. “What?”   
“I asked what we are dealing with.”  
“Not “we”. Me. _You_ ” he flung an arm in her general direction, “are going home as soon as you've finished that.”  
“Yeah? And what about Dad and Alison?”  
“Who?”  
“Step-mom. Kinda grouchy at the moment. Very stubborn normally. Not someone you want to mess with.”

A step mom? That was new information, and Stiles ran the idea through his head. What had happened to her mom? Wait, he vaguely remembered Gran saying something about a divorce. No, he didn't have time for this. Zoe needed to leave and he had an appointment to keep.  
“They'll need to leave, too.”  
“Oh, they'll love to hear that.” she remarked as she poured the boiling water over the instant coffee. A sharp, slightly plasticy aroma filled the kitchen as she lifted the mug to her nose. A look of pure bliss swept across her features.   
Stiles began to pace impatiently. Five steps to, five steps fro.  
“Well, they're going to have to. I can't have her take any of you. You-”  
“ _Her?_ ” she cast a piercing gaze over him and lowered her mug to the counter. “Stiles,” she began softly, “Do you know who has your dad?” He shot her a sharp glance and dropped his gaze to the floor as he continued to pace. His jaw tensed and Zoe expelled a small gasp.  
“Oh my God. You do know, don't you? Stiles... you have to tell someone. Dad can help, _I_ can help you.”  
He stopped short of his pacing and wheeled to face her, his face full of thunder, “You don't seem to be able to get it through your head, Zoe! You? You can't help. Feds? The Incredible Uncle Jack- apparent super hero of the middle of nowhere? NONE OF YOU CAN DO ANYTHING. This is my problem- it's my fault. You can't help. You can't understand and, quite honestly, the only way you can make things better, is if you **weren't here**.” he was practically shouting now, and his nostrils were so flared that they were in danger of splitting. Oh, he was getting angry now, but this had no effect on his cousin. She gave him a sad smile, but her brow was set and determined.  
“Do you know how I spent my seventeenth birthday?”  
“What? No. What's that got-”  
“I was in lock up. Jo had me in some sort of high security bomb shelter under the town hall. One of Taggart's animals got lose and was killing people. Prom? Blood frenzy. I watched my physics teacher mauled by the quarterback and my drama teacher was taken out by some of the cheerleaders. All because of a clinical drug trial gone wrong. My ex was exposed to a chemical that turned him _green_ for a week and oh, let's not forget that my first real boyfriend turned out to be _killing_ people.” She shook her head in exasperation, “My father has been registered as Missing for more than three days, more than eighteen times in the last two years. He was kidnapped and held by” her voice hitched “he was taken. I know what it's like. I know how hard this is. I know I can help you. I've seen more than you'll ever believe and you need to trust me.”  
Stiles stared blankly at her.  
“What the hell kind of town are you from?”  
“One that houses the world's best minds. And psychopaths. But that's not the point. The point is; I can help you, but you need to tell me what's going on.” she levelled her green eyes to his brown, but he turned away and plunged a hand into his pocket.

An expectant silence filled the room, broken only by the slight creaking of the house and the digital buzz of cell. Zoe had always been stubborn, b Just because she had everyone she needed for the ceremony, didn't mean Jennifer was going to stop there. 

“Was he really green?” he asked, back still to her.  
“Like cucumber.”  
Without a word, Stalked purposefully out of the room and returned moments later with a chess board and his latest yearbook. He planted both firmly on the counter, heaved a weary sigh and sat at one of the bar stools.   
“What do you know about Lycanthropy?”

–

Fifteen minutes and six cups of coffee later and she had taken the whole thing a lot better than anyone else they'd had to tell. Lydia had raged in a very dignified manner for leaving her out of the loop for around half an hour. And, well, the sheriff didn't exactly take things well, either. 

“I can't believe that all this was blamed on mountain lions. I mean, seriously, they don't even have the same claw patterns.” She took a long draw from her mug and held it against her lips, her voice echoing around the ceramic cup. “And I really can't believe you guys didn't pick up on the whole “evil teacher” thing earlier. I mean, there were only, what, six? Six new people in town. All of them werewolves, except one.”  
“Yeah, I know. Thank you Miss Marple. I was stupid. Should. I should have seen it sooner. It's my fault...” he felt her reach across the counter to cover his balled fist with a surprisingly calloused hand. Stiles looked up to see the set determination on her face and knew he had made the right decision in telling her. Yes, she was still at risk, but somehow he knew she could handle it. He hazarded a weak smile, but not before she got an alert on her cell. 

“Sorry. It's Alison. Uh, not your Alison. Mine. Dad's! My, ah, Step Mom. I better take this.” Zoe stood and awkwardly backed into the hall as she spoke. 

She was different to how he remembered, but also the same. She had the same determination and stubbornness as before, but she appeared to be less of a stuck up brat than she used to be. Quite simply, she'd grown up. Some part of Stiles hoped he had too. He sat up a bit straighter as new sense of optimism overcame him. Zoe might actually provide the answers he so desperately needed. Maybe a fresh perspective was what they needed. She had sworn up and down not to tell Uncle Jack about the werewolf infestation, but said she would pass on any other information she felt she had to. It might, she had reasoned, give them a chance to catch her old school. As understanding as Zoe had been about the whole thing, he didn't want to get anyone else involved unless strictly necessary. 

“She was just letting me know they'll be here in three hours. Like I said.” Stiles gave a start as his eyes involuntarily slid over the clock above the refrigerator. Actually, it was less of a start and more of a jolt, like his whole body was being electrocuted. As if it were some odd chain reaction, Zoe leapt back with a start and knocked into a table scattered in paperwork, spilling it all over the ground. 

Almost simultaneously, Zoe and Stiles swore and scrambled- Zoe for the paperwork and Stiles for his keys and cell. He bolted past Zoe, who was kneeling on the floor, scooping up papers, and had reached the door before she grabbed the hood of his jacket and swung him around to face her.   
“If this is werewolf stuff, I'm coming with you.”  
“It is. I'm late. And- No!- You're not.”  
They stared intently at each other for a heartbeat before Zoe broke away.   
“Fine. But you realise I'm just going to follow you, anyway. And my car? Just a little conspicuous, don't you think? Much better to take whatever it is you drive.”

Seeing no other option, he dislodged the hood from her hand and turned back to the door and began to push through.  
“Fine, but only because I don't want you hanging around alone, all right? _But_ you are going to stay in the car. Got it?”

###### 

  
**AN:** Greetings once again and thank you for sticking through the muddle that was this chapter. I've just finished University for the year, so now I have more time for productive things, like, say, fics and more shows. MWAHAHAHAHA.  
Anyway, back to third person (mostly) for Stiles. Hopefully it wasn't too painful. I'm really warming up to Stiles and Zoe being cousins. So much so that I sometimes forget that it's not canon. Whoops. Anyway, once again I ask you to please let me know if I've made any major mistakes. If you would like to throw in any suggestions, do so and I'll see what I can do with them.  
Because I'm off, I now have a chance to update more frequently, so hopefully I will.   
Thanks again!  
Beth


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